A Hairy Situation
by zanganito
Summary: Dick Grayson lives on his own, grows his hair, and fails at being an adult.


Nightwing entered the window to his room with a thunk of heavy boots, a sound that would certainly annoy his downstairs neighbor. He slammed the window shut and drew the curtains, concealing his entrance, but creating even more noise. "Sorry Mr. V," he muttered under his breath as he heard a string of shouted curses from the apartment downstairs. No doubt, tomorrow he would get another 'What are you doing at 2am, Grayson? Setting up a bowling alley in your bedroom?' rant from his neighbor. But it was far better than taking his time entering and getting "What's Nightwing doing in your apartment?" questions. Social media would have a field day with that.

Dick peeled off his uniform and draped it over a chair, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He'd have to wash it soon, which was a lot more difficult in a public laundromat than a secluded manor. Normally he would bundle his outfit inside his dirty civilian clothes, and push the whole pile into a machine, to the horror of everone else at the laundromat.

His escrima sticks rolled off the chair where he had set them, and clink-clinked as they dropped on the floor. Dick groaned. He was _so totally_ getting the 'bowling alley' rant tomorrow morning. It would probably be almost as bad as the time he had tried practicing with his bo-staff in the apartment, both ensuring that he'd never get his security deposit back (holes in the wall? Those were totally there before), and incensing his neighbors. Long weapons and drywall didn't mix. Long weapons and ceiling fans didn't mix either.

Dick's stomach grumbled. Fortunately, it had been a relatively easy patrol, and he didn't have any patching up to do. He just needed a quick shower and meal before crashing. Unfortunately, without Alfred, his meal choices were limited. Cereal, ramen or sandwiches. And since his bread had gone moldy, he was out of milk but too tired to go to the store (and the closest stores weren't even open at this hour) that left ramen. At least he still had the fancy shrimp flavored ramen with dried veggies left. There was ice cream left in the freezer, but Dick decided on at least pretending to eat healthy, for Alfred's sake. Dried veggies were better than no veggies, right?

After a brief evaluation of his choices, he settled on showering first. At least that way he could dry his hair while eating.

Dick's hair had long since passed 'I'm An Adult Now, Bruce, I'll Grow My Hair As Long As I Please' length, and was rapidly approaching 'Holy Hairy Sea Monster of Doom' length. Like, the kind of sea monster that could plug up all your drains and break your vacuum cleaner. A 'cross between Chthulu and Chewbacca' sea monster, with tendrils that rose from the drains every time he showered. A monster that shed all over his living room, with no end in sight.

Yes, Dick's vacuum cleaner was broken, likely with hairs twisted around the motor. He hadn't vacuumed in two weeks, and already, little hair tumbleweeds were starting to form in the corners of his apartment, occasionally skittering across the floor in the breeze.

He couldn't cut his hair though. Not yet. Not until Seth caved and cut his own hair first, and Dick won the Bludhaven PD hair growing contest. It had started off as a joke. An offhand remark about how long he went between haircuts that turned into a small bet, that turned into a slightly larger betting pool at the department, and eventually even gained attention on social media. Hashtag: Bludhaven's Finest Locks.

Dick and Seth both planned on donating the money and their hair to charity when it was over, but that didn't mean the competition wasn't fierce. And Dick wasn't about to lose over something as small as a slightly harder to clean apartment. Even if he did have to pull a clump of hair out of the drain before taking his shower.

After a quick shower, Dick filled the cup o soup with water and placed it in the microwave. (And yes, he _could_ cook ramen, the one time he'd burned it didn't count). Then he set about his nightly ritual of drying his hair.

It wasn't that he was vain, no drying his hair with a hair-dryer was quick, and meant he didn't have to sleep with wet hair. It also kept his hair stylish and instagram ready, which of course, was for the good of the department. Bludhaven PD needed all the good publicity it could get.

Then suddenly there was a zap of electricity and the apartment plunged into darkness.

Dick cursed and dropped his hairdryer. (At this point trying to be quiet was a lost cause. And his ramen was about to be a lost cause if he couldn't get the power back on). Hopefully he'd only tripped a breaker.

Half an hour later, he came to the conclusion that his breaker had gone bad. It would come on for a few minutes, only to short out again as his hair dryer and microwave started at the same time. Maybe he should have unplugged those before flipping the breaker switch back and forth.

He still had his ice cream though, and Dick figured that the power going out was a sign that eating ice cream on the couch was now acceptable. Ice cream by candlelight even. Unfortunately, he couldn't watch his favorite show.

Dick sighed, scooping up another mouthful of ice cream and watching a hair tumbleweed roll past. Maybe it was time to visit Bruce. Not because he couldn't take care of himself, just a short visit to see Damian, Tim and Alfred, and eat some of Alfred's cooking. Maybe he would try to get along with Bruce for at least as long as it took his landlord to fix the power. And maybe he'd leave on his motorcycle before his neighbor came with his complaints tomorrow morning.


End file.
